Border Crossing
by RussM
Summary: Sometimes it is better to desire a thing than it is to possess a thing, especially when that 'thing' has a well-aimed kick, and hates your guts. Set in the WNSD universe.
1. Check and mate?

Gibby Norton was tired but euphoric as he headed through the forest towards the Canadian border. It was a beautiful night for a romantic walk thought the woods with his beloved. A mile or so ahead, just over the border was where he had built a secluded love-nest. There he and his beloved would spend the rest of their lives in blissful harmony, a union of hearts and mind ordained by heaven itself. Finally after all those years of loneliness, all that rejection, all that hurt he now had all that his heart had ever desired, Velma Dinkley. He gave a sharp tug on the chain he was holding.

"Come… on… Velma…" his voice strained as he pulled.

"Nuuuu! Huuuuuuph! Huuuuuph Muuuuh!" Velma dug her feet into the ground and tried to brace herself against a tree to prevent being dragged any further.

"Beloved… save your energy... for… our honeymoon.. yah!" Gibby jumped out of the way "Will you _stop_ trying to kick me there! Right I'm sorry about this this darling." Gibby reached into his rucksack.

"Nuuuh, huuuup!"

Gibby forced Velma to her ground, he sat on a fallen tree, pressing her face to the floor with his boot having locked some ankle cuffs on her. These would hobble her movement and more importantly stop her trying to kick him in the neither regions. Why couldn't she just accept the inevitable, they were destined to be together and that was that. He stretched out the kinks in his back; he knew Velma was strong, just not this strong. He downed a bottle of energy drink and thought about the sub-basement were he planned to keep her for the first few months. The walls were a foot thick and made of reinforced concrete; he'd have to add more and stronger doors too. He looked up into the sky, there was a bright moon but too much cloud to easily navigate by the stars; she'd managed to break his GPS equipment, shredded his maps and kicked his compass into a river, then there were her attempts to break him and one bit of his anatomy in particular. He pressed his boot down harder as she fought to get up; he wondered where she got the energy from."Huuugh," Velma growled quietly as her face was pressed into the ground.

Gibby knew she would fall for him in time he knew she would initially resist so had researched the best way to restrain and silence Velma. He had rejected rope as that could be abraded so had selected chains and padlocks with cable ties being used to cinch as appropriate. Velma was almost as inventive and skilled at improvising as he was so her hands had been secured in rigid leather mittens to keep her fingers out of mischief. Rather than the trendy but useless tape, or the classic but ineffective cleave gag, Velma had been silenced by a grapefruit sized ball of soft sound absorbing foam attached to a wide leather panel lined with an inch of neoprene, all held tightly in place by a mass of straps. While a collar and lead would be quite symbolic, it would also be too dangerous if she fell over so he used a chain locked round her waist to guide her. It would also allow him to use more effort to get her moving without fear of injury.

It had taken months of planning to get this far. He had managed to lure the gang to a small border resort town with reports of ghostly apparitions scaring visitors to a set of holiday cabins - leaving traces of sugar frosting to ensure all of the gang turned up was an inspired touch. As planned the mystery had been a by-the-numbers affair, Daphne had needed to be rescued, Fred had made traps, Velma had found clues while Shaggy and Scooby had been live bait. At the last moment, when everybody was focused on the unmasking of the villain he had spirited Velma away. Two remote-control decoy get-away cars ensured maximum confusion. He watched them panic from the amusement of a nondescript beat-up old station wagon. The police had quickly set-up roadblocks, fortunately he had planned for this so hadn't been worried when he had been stopped by a couple of times on the way out of town so they could search his vehicle. He'd got out and let them get on with it; Velma was secured in a soundproof compartment hidden under the backseat. The compartment itself was only accessible from under the vehicle. He knew he couldn't risk crossing the border in the vehicle; sniffer dogs, x-ray equipment and professionally inquisitive officers worked there, any one of which could rumble his plot. So he would drive off-road along a pre-selected path to a specific place where he could hide the car. A less thoughtful crook would burn the vehicle to destroy evidence, but that ran the risk of being noticed so a mixture of bleach and formaldehyde sprays followed by filling the vehicle and hidden compartment with expanding AB foam would suffice. The Canadian border was only a few miles away from there, the confusion he'd left behind and subsequent delays in international law would give him the few hours he needed to spirit her away forever. Even the sub-basement wasn't accessible from the house, should the authorities search the house there would be nothing to find. His plan was fool-proof.


	2. A Walk in the Woods

It had not been the easiest of journeys since abandoning the vehicle. Though seriously restrained Velma had fought Gibby every step of the way, often literally as his bruises proved. In order to discourage her from making any further escape attempts he had removed her glasses. She followed, not docilely, but cooperated more than before. The path he had chosen was rough and littered with branches and the like, not to impede him but enough to easily hinder any glasses-free escape attempt.

Finally he saw the sign 'Canadian border 100 yards' with an arrow pointing in a direction. Gibby waited till he caught sight of the Pole star to confirm he was heading north. He pulled Velma behind him with a renewed sense of vigour and purpose, eternal happiness was within his grasp.

A short way along the path was a Forest Ranger; they were leaning back resting against something which Gibby couldn't quite make out. Gibby looked at the ranger, he was tall with long flowing red hair which reached past their shoulder, they had an almost feminine form but their huge bushy red-beard, which stopped just above their large pot-belly, convinced him otherwise. They didn't seem to be particularly alert or watching for something.

"Ah good evening ranger, sir, I didn't expect to see anyone out this late," Gibby decided to take the initiative and behave as if this was normal.

"Evening sir," the ranger touched the rim of his hat "you heading north of the border?" the ranger spoke with an unusual high pitched almost sing-song voice.

"Why yes, yes I am."

"Got yer papers?"

Velma screamed through her gag, couldn't this idiot see what was happening here? She was being kidnapped and this fool was concerned with paperwork. The ranger simply ignored her protests.

"Yes I have my passport right here sir." The ranger took the passport and examined it using a flashlight.

"That's all in order sir, you got yer export permit?"

"My what?"

"Export permit, you plannin' on exporting that Dinkley behind you?" Velma struggled and screamed for all she was worth, almost pulling Gibby off his feet.

"A Dinkley permit? Do I need one?"

"Well not for yer regular domesticated one, but a wild one…" Velma screamed again, stamped her feet and tugged as hard as she could "say why don'tcha just hitch her up to that tree over there, she's getting right frisky then we can go through the paperwork in peace. Sure is a fine looking specimen you got yerself there," Velma squealed through her gag as the ranger slapped her hard on the backside. She was pulled along harder than before, the fool of a ranger was helping him! A chink of chain and a click of padlock and Velma was now secured to a tree. She sank to the ground, all the fight had gone out of her, for now.

"Ya see that thars a _wild_ Dinkley, need a permit to go a-trappin wild Dinkleys, sure need a permit to take one out the country."

"What?"

"Yep I rarely gets to see one nowadays; them critters are right rare round these parts, used to be common, whole libraries of them would roam these woods."

"Libraries?"

"Yep, the collective noun for a social group of 'em, pack of wolves, library of Dinkleys."

"Right."

"Now let's go to the hut and get the paperwork sorted out for you."

"Thanks."

Ranger moved off what he has been resting on, Gibby didn't see it, but it was a small obelisk, a marker post for the US/Canadian border. They, and Velma were now in Canada. Velma looked into the blurry darkness, it summed up her future perfectly.

They returned a few minutes later with the paperwork in order, the 'permit' had cost a few hundred dollars but that was nothing compared to the treasure he had. Or had, Velma wasn't there; just the length of chain that had tethered her to the tree, one of the links had been broken, not cut but torn apart. The ground had been churned up in a couple of places, while the bark of the tree had been shredded.

"Told you Dinkley's were rare in these parts," said the Ranger looking at the empty place where Velma had been.

"What have you done with her!?"

"Nothin' I said they were rare and you had a right feisty one at that, perhaps a MDB came on by and snook her away."

"What the heck is an MDB!"

"Now the MDB is a bit of an odd critter, you've seen the pictures from Africa, rhinos with those little birds on 'em?"

"Sure the rhino provides food and protection while the tick bird eats the parasites that infect the rhino and provides early warning of predators."

"That just it, the MDB and the Dinkley they're just like that."

"So what's an MDB?" Gibby couldn't shake the feeling he was being watched from the shadows. There was now a sense of menace in the air.

"Yeeeerh the MDB is different kind of critter, right ornery and real fond of Dinkleys, got an odd symbiotic relationship with 'em. Almost telepathic some say." The ranger stroked his beard as he spoke.

"What on earth are you talking about!?" Gibby found himself wanting to glance behind him; he had the feeling of a presence behind him, something moving, something big – very big. "You still haven't said what a MDB is?"

"Ohhh ya MDB, the Mad Devil-Bear."

"Ah, but you see I've never heard of…" There was a snort of hot breath right against the back of Gibby's neck.

"Yep the MDB can smell a distressed Dinkley for miles and MDB's are common round here this time of year."

There was a deep menacing growl right next to his ear, Gibby swallowed as he heard its mouth move; he could almost feel its teeth as its tongue moved over them one by one.

"And if there's one thing that gets 'em _really_ worked up is a distressed Dinkley."

Gibby turned to see a large pointed set of teeth, pale white in the moonlight, with a pair of glowing red eyes above them, inches away from his face. It opened its mouth and roared, the force knocking him backward.

"Mother," whimpered Gibby as the bear stood up, towering over him. Six inch claws extended from paws the size of diner plates. It felled a large branch with a single swipe of its paw then turned its attention to Gibby, but he wasn't there. Gibby had scampered away as fast as he could, through the trees, over a stream up the hill… and right into the waiting arms of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.

Daphne pulled the beard off her face and emptied the water out of the balloon in the front if her shirt. She exchanged a high-five with the bear. The front if the bear unzipped to reveal Fred and Shaggy. A safe distance away Velma, with Scooby next to her emerged from behind a large tree. There were several RCMP officers with her for additional protection. Velma and the gang ran towards each other. Gibby's plan had been fool-proof; it just wasn't Mystery Inc. proof.


End file.
